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Browsing named entities in William Hepworth Dixon, White Conquest: Volume 1.

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San Francisco (California, United States) (search for this): chapter 4
ot like to sketch this mouldering wall and overhanging fruit? But while you make your sketch, the owner smokes and smirks, convinced that you admire his wall and fruit trees, not because they make a picture, but because they are his wall and fruit trees. A saintly and a regal city, says Don Mariano with a flush of pride; San Carlos is our patron saint, Don Carlos is our founder king. A regal name is Monterey; rey de los montes-king of the mountains. Dons and caballeros sneer at San Francisco as an upstart city, built by nobody, not even by a viceroy, and peopled by the scum of New York, Sydney, and Hong-Kong. At Monterey they have a line of governors, and a second line of bishops, with the ruins of a castle and a gaudy Mexican church, as visible evidence of their temporal and spiritual sway. At Monterey, too, a gentleman has rights; not only those of a Spanish knight, but those of an Indian chief. He may be sharp of tongue and light of love. Nobody thinks of counting the
Branciforte (California, United States) (search for this): chapter 4
Chapter 4: a lost Capital. Lapping round Pinos Point, nine or ten miles from the Old Quarries, the water races on a pale and sandy beach, of bow-like form, ending in two green and picturesque bluffs. One bluff is Santa Cruz, the other Monterey. The arc is twenty miles across; a sweep of sunny water, over which flocks of gulls and pelicans dart and flash. A slip of sand, dotted along the line with ribs and tusks of whales, so many that they look like drifts of snow, divides the dark blue for me! Leaning on the vessel's side, we watch a shoal of smelts at play. A pelican settles on our mast. The air is still; the silence broken only by the snapping of an unseen dog. A line of surf breaks white and fresh along the rocks of Santa Cruz, but on this stretch of amber sands the waters lap and lie, gently as the fancies float about the eyelids of a sleeping child. Like waiting in a Syrian road, is waiting at a Mexican port. Who cares for time? Beyond the rickety old Mexican pi
Algerine (California, United States) (search for this): chapter 4
nd having placed this battery in charge of Don Jesus de Vallejo, waited the piratical attack. Next day, on Buchard laying one of his ships athwart the castle, Don Jesus opened fire and forced him to withdraw. Enraged by this repulse, Buchard lowered his boats, and sent his men ashore. Don Jesus left his guns, and bolted for the woods, firing a powder train, which blew the castle into dust. Buchard gave the town to pillage, and his crews, a riff-raff of all nations, Spanish, French, and Algerine, spared neither age nor sex. Fire swept the lanes and alleys, so that nothing but the church, an edifice of stone, remained to mark the site of royal Monterey. Five years elapsed before a soul returned. A Scot, named David Spence, a man dealing in skins and hides, came first. Then don and caballero ventured back, and raised their shanties from the dust. Poorer than ever, they built of sand and logs, but gave their sheds poetic names. A hut was called a house, a shed a hall. No house
Caesar (search for this): chapter 5
Chapter 5: Don Mariano. No one can say whether the Vallejo family-of which Don Mariano is the head-derive their line from Hercules or only from Caesar. Nothing in the way of long descent would be surprising in Don Mariano; even though his race ran up to Adam, like the pedigree made out by heralds for his countryman Charles the Fifth. You ask about the history of California, he remarks; my biography is the history of California. In one sense he is right. Don Mariano's story is that of nearly every Mexican of rank. In olden times (now thirty years ago!) he was the largest holder of land in California. Besides his place at Monterey, the family-seat, he owned a sheep-run on San Benito River, an estate sixty miles long in San Joaquin Valley, a whole county on San Pablo Bay, and many smaller tracts in other parts. High mountain ranges stood within the boundaries of his estate. With an exception here and there, these tracts have passed into the stranger's hands. Springing
Polk (search for this): chapter 5
an English marquis, turned his friendly face towards London, though he took good care not to offend his neighbours of New York. A secret memoir, laid before President Polk, describes him as a man of high family, of good education (for a Mexican), who seems to be retiring fiom his military charge, though keeping a squad of soldipt him. No one knows his mind; perhaps he would like a title or an office. Such, in substance, is the picture of Don Mariano, presented thirty years ago, to President Polk. Unable to make him a marquis, Polk made him a general; then, in spite of his priests and bishops, Don Mariano staked his fortunes on the Stars and StripesPolk made him a general; then, in spite of his priests and bishops, Don Mariano staked his fortunes on the Stars and Stripes. In punishment for his sin, he has been badly used by the United States. Wishing to see the capital of California built on his estate, he founded a new city on San Pablo Bay, which he called Vallejo, and offered not only to give the State his finest sites, but to defray the cost of building a court-house and laying out a publ
Adam (search for this): chapter 5
Chapter 5: Don Mariano. No one can say whether the Vallejo family-of which Don Mariano is the head-derive their line from Hercules or only from Caesar. Nothing in the way of long descent would be surprising in Don Mariano; even though his race ran up to Adam, like the pedigree made out by heralds for his countryman Charles the Fifth. You ask about the history of California, he remarks; my biography is the history of California. In one sense he is right. Don Mariano's story is that of nearly every Mexican of rank. In olden times (now thirty years ago!) he was the largest holder of land in California. Besides his place at Monterey, the family-seat, he owned a sheep-run on San Benito River, an estate sixty miles long in San Joaquin Valley, a whole county on San Pablo Bay, and many smaller tracts in other parts. High mountain ranges stood within the boundaries of his estate. With an exception here and there, these tracts have passed into the stranger's hands. Springing
Hercules (search for this): chapter 5
Chapter 5: Don Mariano. No one can say whether the Vallejo family-of which Don Mariano is the head-derive their line from Hercules or only from Caesar. Nothing in the way of long descent would be surprising in Don Mariano; even though his race ran up to Adam, like the pedigree made out by heralds for his countryman Charles the Fifth. You ask about the history of California, he remarks; my biography is the history of California. In one sense he is right. Don Mariano's story is that of nearly every Mexican of rank. In olden times (now thirty years ago!) he was the largest holder of land in California. Besides his place at Monterey, the family-seat, he owned a sheep-run on San Benito River, an estate sixty miles long in San Joaquin Valley, a whole county on San Pablo Bay, and many smaller tracts in other parts. High mountain ranges stood within the boundaries of his estate. With an exception here and there, these tracts have passed into the stranger's hands. Springing
Drake (search for this): chapter 5
s so indignant that he shaved his beard, renounced his title of a Spanish don, and swore that in future he would shave his face like an English marquis. Acting with Alvaredo in founding a new government, he found the hour of his success the most critical of his life. What should he do with California? She could not stand alone. Four countries had some claim to her-Spain, England, Russia, the United States. Spain had been her nominal owner for a hundred years. England had the right of Drake's discovery, when the coast was called New Albion, and annexed to the domain of Queen Elizabeth. Russia had long possessed some points on the coast, notably the hills commanding the Golden Gate. America had the claims of neighbourhood, and a cession from the government of Mexico. What part was he to play? His bishops were in favour of submitting to the Spanish crown, Spain being their country and the bulwark of their Church. The other powers are all heretical. A Catholic seemed to have
Catholics (search for this): chapter 5
Our cascarone ball. What is a cascarone ball? Ah, yes; you are non-Catholic, and have another legend in your Church. A cascarone ball is an eggshell ball — cascaron, eggshell, you see. It is a festival of our people, kept by all good Catholics and Mexicans. Don Mariano shows me a printed notice of this festival; a grand affair, to be given in a noble hall, with a fine orchestra, and a splendid supper. We accept his invitation to the egg-shell dance. On going to our rooms, we hwith tea; for after supper, the dons and caballeros steal away to whisky bars, where three or four doses of their fire-water serve to wake the demons that sleep in every Mexican eye. Each don and caballero wears a poignard in his vest. Good Catholics, true caballeros, whispers Don Mariano, as he bows adieu; you see we keep the festivals of our faith! Good Catholic first, true caballero second, ell Don Mariano? Yes, senor; a mixed blood may be Mexican first, Catholic afterwards; a Sp
Don Mariano (search for this): chapter 5
way of long descent would be surprising in Don Mariano; even though his race ran up to Adam, like f California. In one sense he is right. Don Mariano's story is that of nearly every Mexican of is young republic must incline. To which? Don Mariano, shaving like an English marquis, turned hiice. Such, in substance, is the picture of Don Mariano, presented thirty years ago, to President P, where they may hope to keep their own. Don Mariano's lands have slipped from him by many avenukept by all good Catholics and Mexicans. Don Mariano shows me a printed notice of this festival; Good Catholics, true caballeros, whispers Don Mariano, as he bows adieu; you see we keep the festa big chief, in the fashion of his country, Don Mariano has squandered not a little of his vast ests grant. All Mexicans are fond of law, and Don Mariano never goes into some court except to lose some part of his estate. Don Mariano is a type, not only of the Lost Capital, but the Retiring Race[6 more...]
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